


the show must go all over the place

by lovealwayskatie



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: And that's what you missed on Glee, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovealwayskatie/pseuds/lovealwayskatie
Summary: Because she knows Ricky Bowen and she knows that his letting down the Glee Club isn’t an if but a when. / Glee! AU
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 12
Kudos: 96





	the show must go all over the place

**Author's Note:**

> hi all, meet my sick brain child, the glee AU that no one asked for—like, literally, truly, no one in their life probably wants this except me but if you’re a gleek(!!), you’ll hopefully see a slew of easter eggs to that beautiful disaster of a show.
> 
> i reference approx. 50+ songs in this. title is a quote from glee.

The Glee Club needs sixteen members to compete at _Shine!_ , the largest national show choir competition and pinnacle of Nini’s year, every year.

As they strategize for recruiting interested parties to audition, their advisor, Miss Jenn, says that she isn’t worried about finding one more member; she’s worried about finding the _right_ member, and if she’s honest, Nini is nervous too. Their group is very close, so it’s always a little scary to welcome in outsiders. But of course, she knows that she was once that outsider in question—they all were—so being welcoming to whoever ended up joining is important.

That is, of course, until Miss Jenn walks into the choir room on the second week of school, clapping her hands together. “No need for auditions!” she declares. “We’ve filled the slot.”

“Huh?” E.J. says loudly, while others crane their necks to get a glimpse at who is behind their teacher until she steps out of the way, presenting their new member with a flourish of her arms. Their new member who is none other than Ricky _freaking_ Bowen.

\---

Growing up, Nini’s idea of high school was largely rooted in John Hughes’ cinematic universe with a dash of Clueless and Grease. (The first one, not the sequel obviously. She’s a purist.) Afternoons packed with extracurriculars, late night diner runs, pep rallies and cheering in the stands at football games, and above all, finding a tight knit group of friends to face the good, bad and ugly of high school with.

In reality, however, her first day inside the vast, bustling hallways of East High two years ago consisted of wrestling her way through the senior stairwell to get to her geometry class and being unable to get into her locker due to the couple making out in front of it. She didn’t even have the same lunch period as her best friend, Kourtney, and ended up sitting in mostly uncomfortable silence with a few other girls from her middle school, sporting wide-eyed expressions and pristine new shoes purchased just for the first day.

At that time, she couldn’t fathom how she would ever feel like a fit at East High, how she would ever survive the next four years, much less thrive.

That all changed when she saw the sign-up sheet with _GLEE CLUB AUDITIONS_ written across the top in glittery red letters outside her homeroom class.

She’d almost walked past the flyer entirely amidst the hustle and bustle of the passing period. But she did see it, stopped, stared at the paper for a moment too long, before taking a deep breath and adding her name to the next available line.

Over the next two years, the choir room—okay, it’s really a basement—had wiggled its way into the short list of places that Nini considered home: from her seat in the second row of the risers in between Kourtney and Gina, the walls covered in posters from past competitions and school musicals, the wooden piano that was mostly in tune.

The Glee Club by no means guarantees anyone an ounce of popularity at East High, but the group had forged a tight bond, akin to family after all the long hours of rehearsal and for competitions and late evenings spent at IHOP. They might gripe at each other sometimes like warring siblings, but they look out for one another in the same way.

It is the one place in East High where she knows that she can be unabashedly herself, surrounded by her family, doing what she loves and making music.

Ricky Bowen is _not_ going to be part of her family.

She’s known Ricky since kindergarten, back when he was still Richard, and has detested him for practically just as long. In first grade, he skateboarded over the Barbie she brought in for show-and-tell, dislocating one of her arms and leaving skid marks across her face. In fourth grade, he ate her science experiment on bread mold, and in seventh grade, on their class trip to Six Flags, he puked on her shoes after riding Demon’s Destiny.

And worse than all of the above, Ricky doesn’t take anything seriously. He floats through life, making jokes and shirking responsibilities. He sleeps through math class, his calculator leaving imprints on his forehead, and skips out on group projects and shows up to homeroom late and cracks jokes about Shakespearean vernacular in English class, and like everything else, she knows that he’s not going to take Glee Club seriously, and he’s just going to ruin everything.

She tells Kourtney as much at The Salty Bean, their favorite coffee shop for overpriced iced lattes and catch up sessions. “And how did Miss Jenn let him join anyway? What happened to the ‘sanctity of the audition process’ that she’s always talking about?” she asks, ripping apart her pastry mercilessly.

Her friend shrugs and sips her coffee. “I don’t know, but you know she wouldn’t have let someone join without hearing them sing. Don’t you think we should give him the benefit—Nini, seriously, what did that croissant do to you?”

She pauses and drops the pieces of croissant in her hand. “I’m concerned for the good of the group. What’s going to happen when he bails last minute and we’re unable to compete at _Shine!_?”

Because she knows Ricky Bowen and she knows that his letting down the Glee Club isn’t an if but a when.

\---

She’s at her locker, chatting with Ashlyn about their history quiz before heading to the cafeteria together, when a passing Ricky says with a smile so wide that his dimples appear, “Can’t wait to see you at rehearsal, Nina. Start thinking about what you’re going to serenade me with.”

She scoffs. “You wish.”

His smile doesn’t even falter when he says, “You know, I really do.”

He’s gone before she can think of a comeback and she settles for letting out a huff, shoving her textbook into her locker. “He’s insufferable,” she says to Ashlyn instead. “I can’t believe he’s going to be part of the Glee Club.”

“He likes you,” the other girl says with a knowing smile.

“No, he doesn’t.” She slams her locker shut, a little more forcefully than she meant to. They are high schoolers. Pigtail pulling crush rules don’t apply anymore. “He puked on me.”

“Four years ago,” Ashlyn laughs, and Nini scowls.

She adjusts her backpack straps on her shoulders and points them in the direction of the cafeteria. “And still, he will always be the boy who puked on me.”

\---

After that, she decides that she’s going to avoid Ricky stupid Bowen, because this is supposed to be a good year.

Nini has never had a solo at competition—which is totally fine. Seniors usually get them since you know, they’ve paid their dues and all. It makes sense. But if there’s even the slightest chance for her to get one this year as a junior . . . well, she’s going to put her best foot forward for all opportunities possible, and nothing’s going to shake her.

At their first practice as a new group, she enters to see Seb seated at the piano, leading a group rendition of La La Land’s “Someone in the Crowd,” E.J. giving a piggy back ride to fellow senior Stephani, and Carlos and Gina jazz squaring to their hearts’ content in the corner. She takes her place next to Natalie at the piano, giggling as they each chime in for solo lines.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Ricky enter, hovering in the doorway as he takes in the scene before him, and she briefly remembers how it feels to be on the outside of the Glee Club. When she’d first joined, she’d been so intimidated of the seniors and their four years of inside jokes and traditions. She turns back to the piano, putting her arms around Natalie and Kaden on either side of her.

Then Miss Jenn arrives, and everyone settles into their seats, Ricky taking a spot in the back row behind Nini. Miss Jenn is a little odd but mostly great, which Nini thinks is fitting for a Glee Club director, and everyone can tell that she cares a lot.

“Welcome, welcome!” she exclaims, the lilt in her voice like a Disney princess that just stepped off screen. “Welcome, of course, officially to our newest member”—there’s a smattering of applause as Ricky gives a small, awkward wave, and Nini busies herself by flipping through sheet music—“and of course, welcome back to our returners. I know I speak for all of us when I say that I look forward to another fantastic year of making music together, and Ricky, I hope that you will soon consider yourself a part of the team.” She smiles brightly, her teeth truly worthy of that firework gum commercial she starred in back when she was trying to make it big in New York.

“Now,” she says, crossing over to take her place behind the piano. “Let’s begin with some warmups, shall we?”

Avoidance of Ricky, however, quickly turns futile.

After warming up, they are paired up for duets, allowing Miss Jenn to test out voice combinations, and Nini knows that this is prep for _Shine!_ Sectionals even if no one will admit to it. The competition sets typically consisted of a solo or duet and two group numbers, both of which usually had a few shorter solo opportunities.

“E.J. and Lauryn,” Miss Jenn reads off the assignments from her sparkly pink clipboard. She watches the two seniors swap smiles. This is supposed to be their year to shine as vocal leads. Miss Jenn continues to pair people up, and still not hearing her name, she mentally clocks the group to try and figure out who she will be partnered with when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

It’s Ricky. “Looks like we’re partners, Nina,” he says, that dumb grin back on his face, and she grits her teeth in response.

\---

He meets her in the auditorium to practice (ten minutes late, she might add), and she sits cross legged on the piano bench, plinking away at random notes as she waits.

“I didn’t even know this place existed,” he announces as he enters, staring up at the high ceilings as he climbs up onto the stage. He has a guitar case strapped to his back; she didn’t know that he played. Only a few of the stage lights are on, creating a halo-like glow around his head.

She hits a sour note as she watches him approach. “Well, as of three days ago, you weren’t exactly the performing type,” she clips before turning to him fully. “Why are you here?”

He looks over both shoulders, back into the dark abyss of the audience seating. “You told me to meet you here . . .”

“No,” she says, exasperated. “Why are you in Glee Club now?” To mock them to his friends at the skatepark? To ruin their _Shine!_ chances? To torture her?

He exhales through his nose. “It’s a long story. Can we just practice now?”

With an eye roll, she turns back to the piano. “Fine. I was thinking we could sing ‘Suddenly Seymour’ from Little Shop of Horrors. Classic duet, Miss Jenn loves it.”

“Actually,” he interrupts her. “Would you be up for a duet a little less basic?”

She sets her lips in a thin line. “What did you have in mind?”

“’You Drive Me Crazy?’” She gives him a pointed look, and he rolls his eyes this time. “By Britney Spears. I heard this stripped down, acoustic version,” he says, setting his guitar case on the stage and opening it. He pulls the instrument out and adjusts the strap over his shoulder. “And I think it could be a cool duet. Listen.”

Three days later, E.J. and Lauryn sing “Suddenly Seymour,” making exaggerated doe eyes at one another and Lauryn adopting a nasally Brooklyn accent in line with the character of Audrey.

Ricky and Nini perform for everyone next, the version of “You Drive Me Crazy” that he proposed. He’d been right, it was a cool spin on the song, and she finds places where their voices could layer with new harmonies, and honestly, they sound good.

He plays the guitar, looking at her as he strums, and she looks away when she knows she needs to begin. It’s a lot easier to sing about how she’s in too deep with feelings other than dislike when she doesn’t have to look at him.

_Baby, I'm so into you_

_You got that something, what can I do?_

_Baby, you spin me around_

_The earth is moving, but I can’t feel the ground_

She circles him as she sings, just like they practiced, and he takes the next part of the verse. None of them may have heard Ricky audition, but she knows that no one will have qualms with his presence after hearing him sing now. His voice is clear and effortless. Plus, his higher register serves as a great contrast to E.J.’s baritone for the group. But it’s more than that even. He sounds so earnest, packing emotion into every word as he sings.

_Every time you look at me_

_My heart is jumping, it's easy to see_

_Loving you means so much more_

_More than anything I ever felt before_

They sing the chorus together, overlapping the lyrics with one another, and she spares a glance to see he’s smiling, bopping along to the song as he plays.

_You drive me crazy, I just can't sleep_

_I'm so excited, I'm in too deep_

_Whoa oh oh, crazy, but it feels alright_

_Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night_

When he strums the final chord, it echoes and fades into silence as they turn to their teammates who stare at them. Miss Jenn peers at them curiously, and Nini braces herself for her to say that she hated it, that they ruined a favorite song from her teen years.

“That was very good,” their teacher says finally, her tone even, and she taps her pen against her clipboard once then scribbles down a note. “We’ll have to revisit this pairing at some point.”

Nini spares a glance at Ricky and he stares back, shrugging with a half-smile on his lips.

\---

When she was eight, she started writing songs on her baby blue ukulele that her moms got her for Christmas. They were silly initially, written about the fluffy clouds in the sky or what she had for lunch that day, but over time, they evolved, and she kept every word and note in a now worn Moleskine journal.

She likes being able to spin something out of nothing, pulling melodies and rhymes out of her head. She poured over the lyrics of the female singer-songwriters she adored, Taylor and Joni and Carole and Norah, and tried to adopt their head space as she tried out different chords on her keyboard.

She’s never performed one of her songs in front of anyone other than her shower head, not even her moms. But she’d like to, one day, maybe.

\---

He’s been in Glee Club for two weeks when it happens.

Ricky’s turning the corner when the football player launches, sending a spray of cherry red slushie in his face. “Congrats on making the Geek Club, bitch,” the athlete says with a bark of laughter, and then he keeps walking, leaving Ricky behind, eyes closed and dripping.

She shuts her locker with a sigh.

“I can’t believe they still do this,” he says, muffled with his head completely submerged in the girl’s bathroom sink. Getting slushied is the worst of Glee Club traditions, one thrust upon them by the East High football team long before Nini even was a student here, passed down through generations.

She’ll never forget the first time she was slushied. It was blue raspberry, and it felt like she had just stepped into sideways sleet or been shot in the face with a thousand tiny icicles or taken a Polar Bear Plunge into a frozen Jolly Rancher pool—actually, none of that truly covered the level of shock and stickiness that she’d experienced. The spot behind her right ear was faintly blue for weeks after.

Ricky lifts his head from the sink, his curls heavy with water and dripping, while she works on scrubbing at the stain on his hoodie. Her own fingertips are turning red.

“It’s hardly my favorite part of Glee,” she says, throwing out the soaked paper towel in her hand and reaching for a new one. “But it pales in comparison to being puked on, I promise you.”

He settles her with a look. “I apologized for that.”

“Actually, you didn’t.” She turns sideways to lean against the sink. “You said ‘my bad’ and then ran off to eat chicken fingers.” His mouth parts slightly like he’s waiting for words to escape, and she lifts his hoodie out of the sink, continuing, “I think this is going to be as good as it gets, so be sure to soak it again when you get home.”

When she heads out of the girls’ bathroom, he looks like he’s still on the verge of trying to say something.

\---

They buckle down on Sectionals prep that week, selecting “Born to Be Brave” as one of their group numbers, with Miss Jenn emphasizing that they’ll be structuring their set to play to their strengths as a group. Adeline will be taking the lead vocals, and Gina and Andres will be performing a dance solo.

Carlos, who serves as their de facto choreographer, has them in lines to learn the footwork for the chorus. “Grapevine right, feet together as you hop!” He walks through the motions slowly. “Then repeat that to the left, and you want to make sure that you really hit these motions hard and sharp.”

“Sorry,” Ricky mumbles as he trips over his own feet, and since he’s four counts behind, still going right as she goes left, stumbles into her.

“It’s fine,” she says, brushing him off. Surrounded by Carlos and Andres and Gina, she’s never been the best dancer in the group, and she needs to focus in order to pick up the moves at the same rate.

“Now you’re going to push right, push left, stepping out with the same foot as the arm that you’re pushing down with, then turn to your partner on the eight count to Patty Cake.”

Nini turns to face Ricky. When Miss Jenn said that she wanted to revisit her and Ricky as a pairing, dance partners in the back row for Sectionals wasn’t what she thought she was talking about.

They continue to work through the next eight count of choreography, and Ricky’s brow is furrowed in concentration as he fumbles through the moves, tripping once more. “Shit,” he says but catches himself before bumping into her this time.

“Ricky,” Carlos says, evidently seeing the boy’s growing frustration. “Do you need me to run through that again more slowly?”

Next to her, she sees his jaw clench at being called out even though she knows that Carlos doesn’t mean it like that. Trust her, everyone knows when Carlos means it like that. “No,” he forces out through his teeth. His breathing is uneven from dancing, and his cheeks are flushed. “Can I just, can I have a second?”

“Right, a five for water sounds good,” Carlos says then claps his hands together. “Take five everyone!”

From her seat, she sips from her Hydro Flask, half listening to Gina mark the choreography in place, as she watches Carlos pull Ricky aside in the corner of the choir room, speaking to him in hushed tones. Ricky looks away pointedly as Carlos tilts his head, his expression kind. When Carlos reaches out to touch his shoulder, Ricky shakes his head, taking one step backward, and gestures towards the door behind him.

Kourtney asks a question about one of the steps, pulling her focus back to the girls beside her, and when she looks back, Ricky is gone.

She can’t even say that she’s surprised.

The next day, she’s in the library working through algebra equations when she sees Ricky approach Carlos among the book shelves. She can’t hear them from this far away, but when she turns back to her assignment, the numbers blur in front of her as she zones out, suddenly unable to concentrate.

She looks back up, and Ricky is grapevining right, hop. Grapevines left and another hop. Push and kick, push and kick.

It’s the “Born to Be Brave” choreography. His moves are somewhat stilted and not up to the tempo of the song, but it’s definitely the choreography, and he’s markedly better than yesterday. He’s practiced. Carlos has his arms folded over his chest, and she sees him smile and nod encouragingly, and Ricky starts from the beginning again.

She looks back at her assignment and catches herself smiling at her problem set. She bites on her bottom lip to stop.

\---

The bell rings, signaling the end of English class, and she turns in her desk to pack up her books. Ricky sits diagonally behind her and currently is face down on his desk, breathing loudly as he sleeps. She zips her backpack shut and rolls her eyes to no one before tapping on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move and she pokes at him again harder, and he grumbles before lifting his head to squint up her. “I have to still be dreaming if you’re here,” he says, raking a hand through his hair.

She rolls her eyes again, and he stretches, his Vans touching the back of the desk in front of him and his arms over his head, the hem of his hoodie creeping up.

“You have pen.” She taps on her own cheek, indicating the spot where the blue line streaks across his face, and he knits his eyebrows together, bringing a hand down to rub at his cheek. “And you know that you need to maintain at least a B minus average in order to compete for Glee Club, right?”

She adjusts her backpack on her shoulders before turning to exit the classroom.

“See you later, Nina,” he calls after her.

\---

“For the duet, what if we did ‘As Long as You’re Mine’ from Wicked?” Lauryn asks. She briefly looks at the back of E.J.’s head. Nini heard that the girl has been dropping not-so-subtle hints about wanting the senior to ask her to homecoming.

“Or ‘Rewrite the Stars?’” Seb proposes.

“Ooh, I love that song,” Natalie says.

“Born to Be Brave” is shaping up nicely, but they still have two more songs to pick for Sectionals, including another group number and a duet or solo.

“If we did ‘Rewrite the Stars,’” Kourtney says, “What’s the other group number?”

“What about that one song everyone is dancing to on TikTok?” Big Red asks.

“Yeah, _that_ narrows it down.”

She hears Ricky try to chime in behind her, his voice buried under Big Red trying to demonstrate the dance trend, so they’ll know what song he’s talking about. “What about—”

“’Don’t Start Now?’”

“Do you guys—” Ricky tries again.

“’Savage?’”

“’Say So?’”

“Hey,” Ricky says for a third time, louder, raising his hand like he’s been waiting to be called on, and everyone quiets to listen to him. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down now that all eyes are on him. “Do you ever do songs outside of musicals and top 40?”

There’s silence until Carlos asks, dragging his words out slowly, “No . . . why would we?”

“What if we did “Lights” by Journey for the duet?” he asks. No one says anything, so he continues, getting increasingly excited as he speaks, “It’s such a good power ballad, and we can all come in on the backing vocals. And I think, you know, it would be a good fit for E.J.’s voice.”

The boy perks up at his name. “Thanks, dude,” he says, flashing a megawatt smile.

“And it would appeal to our Boomer judges,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for everyone to hear.

It’s quiet for another moment before Miss Jenn says, “I like the thinking, Ricky. Let’s try it.” She retakes her seat at the piano. “E.J. and Lauryn, take it from the top.”

\---

She goes to homecoming with the girls. Her dress is a deep purple with a floaty skirt that spins as she does, and Kourtney does her makeup, and her moms corral the group into taking a thousand and one photos in the backyard before letting them leave.

When they arrive, other members of the Glee Club are seated at a table, including Lauryn and E.J. making googly eyes and Big Red in a brown plaid jacket. They drop off their things, and she offers to get punch for Kourtney and Gina.

Ricky is at the punch bowl too, ladling out the pink drink into a plastic cup, and she waits in line next to him. “Here,” he says, helping her fill two cups with punch. She thanks him and reaches across for a third cup as he lifts the ladle once more, knocking arms and causing punch to spill onto the floor and down the front of her dress.

She yelps, jumping backwards. “Shit, sorry, I’m so sorry” tumbles out of his mouth, and he grabs for a pile of napkins.

“Figures,” she spits out, taking the napkins from him and blotting at the spill. How is it that 75 percent of her interactions with Ricky end up with her wearing some kind of stain? He just stands there and watches her, mouth hanging open like he wants to say something.

Kourtney must have seen the commotion, because Nini feels her friend tug on her arm suddenly. “Bathroom stat before it stains.”

She hears Ricky say once more, “I’m sorry!” before letting Kourtney drag her away.

Ten minutes and a full Tide To-Go pen later and Kourtney swears that the stain isn’t even noticeable as they emerge from the girls’ bathroom. They make it two steps, the door swinging behind them, when she sees Ricky waiting with a cup of punch in hand.

“Hey,” he says. Nini doesn’t answer, crossing her arms.

Kourtney looks between the two and begins backing away towards the gym. “I’ll just let you two talk . . . alone. Bye!” She turns, practically sprinting back inside.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again, his big brown eyes in full effect—this is the look that she knows is his go-to for getting out of trouble. She’s seen it make numerous appearances throughout the year but never directed towards her. “Is your dress okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers. “It’ll be fine.” She eyes the drink in his hand. “You didn’t come out here to spill on me again, did you?”

He looks at the cup, too. “No! No, I actually—” He holds it out to her. “I was going to let you spill it on me.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Fair’s fair.”

She looks from the punch to his wide eyes to his pressed light blue dress shirt and navy, paisley printed tie. “I’ll spare you,” she says. She kind of likes the tie.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Then she adds with a small smile, “This time.”

He lets out a relieved sigh. “I really am sorry.” And this time, it doesn’t sound like he’s just talking about her dress. “I’m trying to be better. And I really like Glee Club. I know you might not think I do, but I’m trying to . . . I’m trying.”

She thinks of him in the library, having clearly practiced the “Born to Be Brave” choreography, and his thoughtful song recommendations, both Britney and Journey. “I know. I can see that.”

They go back inside together, Nini sipping the punch from Ricky, and the Glee Club winds up all dancing in a circle together, singing along to Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” at the top of their lungs. And when Gina spins her in circles before pulling her close as they sing about wanting to feel the heat with somebody and Ricky and Big Red shimmy together and Carlos backs it up to a song she never thought someone would ever try to break their back to, she forgets all about her potentially stained or not stained dress.

\---

Twelve years of disliking someone doesn’t fade immediately, but during study hall on Tuesday, he asks if the seat next to her is open, and she says yes.

\---

Every Halloween, the Glee Club watches Rocky Horror Picture Show in Ashlyn’s basement and eat their weight in fun-sized candy bars.

The night before, per tradition, she makes Pillsbury slice-and-bake pumpkin cookies for the group, and she talks with Kourtney on speaker phone about the most recent episode of Riverdale, a shared guilty pleasure that she won’t even admit to watching to anyone else.

“Kourt, since this is a Glee Club tradition,” she says suddenly, sliding the baking sheet into the oven. “Shouldn’t we invite Ricky to Rocky Horror?” There’s no response. “Kourtney?”

“Sorry, I dropped my phone in shock.”

“Oh, come on,” she says. “Weren’t you the one that said we needed to be welcoming?”

“Yes, I _did_ say that, and I think your response was fu—”

“Okay, well,” she interrupts and closes the oven door. “Homecoming wasn’t completely terrible . . . after he almost ruined my dress. But when we were all together, that was fun. And I don’t need a dark Ricky cloud hanging over my entire year if I can just be cordial.”

“Wow,” Kourtney responds finally. “This is a bigger plot twist than what they come up with on that ridiculous show.”

Ricky is the last one to show up at Ashlyn’s, and he arrives with an already opened bag of individually wrapped mini Snickers bars. “Sorry, my dad needed some more candy for the trick-or-treaters. But it’s mostly full.”

“No problem,” Ashlyn cheers, adding it to the table of snacks. “Have you ever seen Rocky Horror before?”

Nini is curled up on the couch in between Gina and Carlos, eating one of the dark chocolate cupcakes that Gina brought. “Um, no, actually, but they sing in it, right?” Ricky asks.

Ashlyn turns to everyone piled on the couch with a grin. “We got ourselves a Rocky virgin, guys.”

“Wait, what?”

Everyone cheers while Ricky looks terrified, and Ashlyn retrieves a marker, tossing it to Nini. “Per Rocky Horror tradition, anyone who has never seen the movie must be marked,” Ashlyn explains. “Don’t worry, we don’t sacrifice you during intermission like most live performances.” That does nothing to ease the look on his face.

Nini brandishes the uncapped marker. “Come on,” she says, waving Ricky over and stands in order to reach his forehead.

He crouches an inch or two for her to reach more easily, and realizing she’s never actually been this close to him before, she hesitates a fraction of a second before reaching up to push his curls back off his forehead. “Be gentle on me, Nina,” he says quietly, and he holds a serious face for a moment, eyes so wide and sincere that she hates the way that her chest tightens.

She swallows thickly, and then his resolve breaks, a cocky smile stretching across his lips, and she manages an overexaggerated eye roll before drawing a large, red V on his forehead and dropping her hand from his hair.

The group cheers again, and she reclaims her seat while Ricky settles on the floor beside Big Red. “Alright, everyone,” Ashlyn announces, starting the movie. “Let’s take a trip to Transylvania.”

Ricky asks questions approximately every three minutes for the first half hour of the film before he realizes that the entire thing makes little to no sense and that he just needs to buckle up and go along for the ride.

During “Time Warp,” which Ricky exclaims that he’s heard of, they all get up, singing and jumping to the left and stepping to the right, and she catches Ricky, hands on his hips, trying and failing to pelvic thrust in time, his curls flopping over the V on his forehead, and she cracks, unable to stop laughing for the remainder of the song.

\---

Sectionals is the second week of November, and the night before, they have one last rehearsal in the auditorium. It’s a cursory run through; they sound really good and look really good, too, even Ricky, she notes, when he spins her as part of the “Born to Be Brave” partner choreography. If you had asked her a month ago, she would have sworn that he’d have bailed by now, but as she spins back into his chest, here he still is.

“Ricky, I’m so jealous of you,” Gina says later as they all gather their belongings to head home. “I’ll never forget the rush of my first _Shine!_ competition. I wish I could relive it.”

He nods, the movement a little jerky, and says, “Yeah, I’m excited. Totally pumped.” The smile he offers doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Kourt, can you still give me a ride home?” Nini asks, and Kourtney nods as her phone rings. Nini packs up the rest of her things, shouldering her backpack, when Kourtney wraps up her call.

“Ugh, Ni, we’re going to have to stop by to pick up my brother from basketball practice first.”

“Or uh,” Ricky says, having heard the exchange. “I can give you a ride home if you need?” He’s on his way out, bag in hand.

She looks from Ricky to Kourtney and back. “Are you sure?” He nods, and she says okay.

In his orange VW Bug, he turns on the radio but keeps the volume low, and she gives him directions to her house before asking, “Are you excited for tomorrow? First Sectionals and all.”

“Yeah, I’m excited,” he answers, but he says it in the same, vaguely lifeless way that he had to Gina in the auditorium.

She turns straight ahead, watching him navigate the residential streets. “I was so nervous for my first competition. I don’t think I slept for a week beforehand and Kourtney had to force me to eat something that day because she thought I would faint on stage.”

“Yeah?”

She feels his eyes on her, and she turns back to him. “Yeah, totally normal to have nerves, I think,” she replies. “It’s probably abnormal to _not_ be at least a little nervous.”

“Yeah,” he repeats more firmly, looking back at the road.

“You look really good, though,” she continues, and she hears how the words sound only after they’ve left her mouth. “Like, with the singing and the . . . dancing. I just mean that you’ve really improved in the last few months.” She can see the smile on his face, and she cringes at herself, angling her body away from him in order to stare out the window, contemplating how painful the landing might be if she tuck and rolls out of his car at this exact moment.

He doesn’t reply for a bit until he asks, “Can I tell you something?”

“Yes,” she replies slowly, unsure of where this could be going.

“You know when you asked me about why I joined Glee Club?”

When they rehearsed for their duet for the first time in the auditorium, she recalls. “Yeah.”

“My dad is dating Miss Jenn,” he says. Her head whips back over to look at him, but his eyes stay on the road, hands at ten and two. “She heard me singing in my room one night when she was over for dinner and swore up and down that I needed to join. And, well, once my dad got wind of that, he thought it might be good for me and college applications and . . . yeah. That’s how I ended up in Glee Club.”

She really doesn’t know what to say. She had no idea.

“Wow,” she says finally and unable to come up with anything better, adds, “I had no idea.”

He gives her a tight-lipped smile. “Not exactly something that I go around advertising.”

She can’t imagine what it would be like for one of her moms to start dating a _teacher_. Weird. Definitely weird, but she supposes, if they were happy . . . “Well, you obviously don’t have to tell anyone, and I promise I won’t,” she replies, “But I really don’t think anyone in the Glee Club would care, if you’re worried about that.”

He eyes her carefully. “You don’t?”

She shakes her head when he pulls up in front of her house. The porch light is on, meaning her moms are waiting up. “No, I don’t. Not when we’re all still recovering from your Time Warp from Halloween.”

He lets out a laugh, and she opens the passenger side door to get out. “Goodnight, Ricky.”

“Goodnight, Nini.”

\---

They crush Sectionals.

From the duet between E.J. and Lauryn to the choreography of “Born to Be Brave” to the closer, the old Imagine Dragons’ song, “It’s Time,” the audience is on their feet by the end, and while no one is surprised when they take first, they jump around the stage, hugging and some of the seniors even crying. As Miss Jenn accepts the trophy, Nini pulls Kourtney into a tight hug, and from across the crush of bodies, she catches Ricky’s eye and smiles, giving him two thumbs up over her friend’s shoulder before Big Red practically tackles him to the ground.

Afterwards, they’re packing up in their green room and agree to carpool in groups over to IHOP. Eating pancakes until midnight in sweats and a full face of stage makeup after a competition is the height of Glee Club traditions.

She’s halfway out the door to catch up with Gina and Ashlyn when she sees that Ricky still hasn’t left. “You’re coming, right?”

He nods but doesn’t move yet, so she takes a step closer. “Congrats on your first Sectionals. How’d you like it?”

He looks up at her. “I liked it. More than I thought I would,” he says, sounding genuinely surprised by his own words.

She smiles. “That’s what they all say. And hate to break it to you, Ricky, but you’re officially part of the family.”

She can’t believe what she’s saying, but after surviving his first competition, one in which his song selection was part of their set, it’s true, whether she likes it or not. But she thinks she doesn’t mind as much anymore. He’s still kind of insufferable, making cocky comments and joking around more often than not, but she thinks they might actually be friends. She’s not entirely sure how that happened.

She continues, “And now it’s time for family dinner, so come on.”

\---

Miss Jenn says that they can revel in their win through Thanksgiving break before resuming Regionals preparation, so on the last Friday before they’re off for the next week, they mess around in the choir room. Kourtney is the one that starts this song, but quickly, Ricky jumps in on the guitar and Seb on the drums.

_If you wanna go and take a ride with me_

_We 3-wheeling in the fo' with the gold D's_

_Oh, why do I live this way?_

Nini throws up her hands when they all shout in unison, “Hey, must be the money!” Gina pulls her out of her seat, and they dance in circles around the drums, Gina ruffling Seb’s hair at one point as she side steps past.

_In the club on the late night, feeling right_

_Looking, trying to spot something real nice_

_Looking for a little shorty I noticed so that I can take home_

“I can take home,” she echoes with the other girls. Carlos and Andres body roll in their seats, and everyone claps along to the beat, pointing to one another and pulling silly faces.

_She can be_

_18, 18 with an attitude_

_Or 19, kinda snotty, acting real rude_

_But as long as you a thicy-thicy-thic girl you know that it's on_

“You know that it’s on,” she practically screams in Kourtney’s face, but she’s shouting, too, grabbing Nini’s face in her hands. Ashlyn holds her ear like Mariah in the studio, waving her finger like she’s performing the most intensive riffs of her life, not rapping along to Nelly circa 2001.

_I peep something_

_Coming towards me on the dance floor, sexy and real slow_

_Saying she was peeping and I dig the last video_

_"So when Nelly, can we go?"_

_How could I tell her no?_

_Her measurements was 36-25-34_

As he plays, Ricky bobs his head along to the beat with a huge grin on his face. This is the last time he’ll be around until after break; he’s visiting his mom in Chicago and won’t be able to join the group next Saturday for their movie night at E.J.’s. He catches her gaze, and she crosses her eyes, sticking out her tongue from across the room, before singing the next verse at him.

_I like the way you brush your hair_

_And I like those stylish clothes you wear_

_I like the way the light hit the ice and glare_

_And I can see you, boo, from way over there_

The group shouts, throwing their hands up before dissolving into laughter, and her love for this choir room, this team, these people feels like an electric current running through circuits beneath her skin, lighting her up a thousand watts.

\---

When Salt Lake City is blanketed in fresh snow the first weekend of December, Seb hosts a snowball fight at his family’s farm.

Since they have so much open land, it turns into a complete Game of Thrones-style battle, boys versus girls, mixed with Capture the Flag, and Ashlyn, as their team’s battle strategist, leads them in building a snow fort to protect their flag. Nini works alongside Stephani to make snowballs, pelting E.J. and Ricky as they try to approach the girls’ station, but Ricky picks up as much snow as he can and dumps it over Nini’s head.

“You did not just do that,” she says, snow sticking to her eyelashes as she wipes her face. She can barely make out Ricky’s grin. “You’re going to pay.”

He raises an eyebrow at her threat, and she pushes him into the snow, sending him backwards and ending up on top of him, her mitten-clad hands pushing against his chest firmly. Eyes still closed, he sinks another inch into the snow at the pressure, and as she stares down at him, she realizes that his hands are on her sides.

“Your hat looks ridiculous,” she says, climbing off him and brushing the snow from the front of her coat.

He opens his eyes, looking up at her from his place in the snow. “Hey, I like my hat,” he says, offended. His orange and red knit cap is too big for his head, and the dangling braids end with large puff balls.

“We win!” Nini hears, looking up to see Gina from a distance, running with the boys’ flag over her head in triumph.

“We win,” Nini repeats to Ricky, beaming.

He groans, hanging his head back towards the gray sky. “Okay, then will you at least help me up?”

“Sure,” she replies, sticking out her hand, and when he puts his gloved hand in hers, she doesn’t realize until it’s too late that he’s pulling, sending her tumbling back into the snow beside him.

\---

The Glee Club volunteers for one of the performance slots at the local elementary school’s Frost Festival, and they take the stage on the gazebo overlooking the booths, decked in Santa hats or reindeer antler headbands, E.J. singing lead on “Jingle Bell Rock” as they all step touch behind him.

Ricky flicks one of the bells hanging off her antlers, and when he’s distracted, she pulls the fluffy brim of his Santa hat further down over his eyes.

Afterwards, a group heads to The Salty Bean, picking up hot chocolates to drink as they wander through the light-trimmed rows of booths, talking about Christmas break plans, finals and a little bit of nothing. And she knows that it’s silly to say, but the songs aren’t wrong when they say that it’s the most wonderful time of the year.

\---

The Glee Club hosts a gift exchange at Natalie’s house. Elf plays in the background as they gather in a circle, each person with their unmarked present in front of them. Nini’s gift is wrapped in olive green paper, printed with prancing reindeer, and she runs a finger along the carefully creased gift wrap. Last year, she was fairly certain that Seb had her, and she’d been right, but this year, she has no idea who her gift is from.

E.J. opens a new selfie ring light for his phone from Natalie, Kaden gifts Gina a Bon Appetit Test Kitchen cookbook, while Kourtney receives the newest Morphe palette before it’s Nini’s turn. She peels back the wrapping paper, careful not to tear it, before lifting open the box to see a tiny silver sandwich charm. She holds it closer to examine the details of overhanging layers and diagonal grill lines.

“It’s a panini,” Ricky offers. “Because . . . you’re Nini. It probably made more sense in my head—”

She looks up to find him across the circle. “No, I get it. I love it.” She takes the charm and fixes it onto her bracelet before holding up her arm, shaking her hand a little so all the charms on her bracelet jingle quietly. “Perfect fit.”

He smiles back at her before dropping his eyes to his lap, and they move onto Carlos opening his gift from Kaden.

\---

Once the new semester starts, they pick two of their songs for Regionals: Lauryn is given a solo, “Ain’t No Way,” and for one of the group numbers, “ME!” by Taylor Swift with Stephani and Seb taking the solo verses, and they begin to work through the dance routine Carlos and Gina choreographed, complete with shimmying and kick ball changes and sharp, syncopated movements to match up to the marching band section.

Miss Jenn arrives with a stack of sheet music in hand at their next rehearsal. “I have a fabulous idea for our final song,” she says, passing out the music. “Somewhere Only We Know” is printed across the top, and Nini passes back one of the copies to Ricky behind her.

“I love this song,” he says.

“Good,” Miss Jenn says. “I’d like you to take the solo.”

\---

An idea for a song hits her in the middle of the night, so suddenly, and all at once, she has a chorus, and she throws her covers off her to pull her keyboard into her lap, trying to pull the notes and rhythm from her head and put them on paper.

She loves listening to songwriters talk about their craft, and one question they always get is how they come up with their songs. They all dance around the same notion, and Nini, too, as she fills up more and more of her notebook, is inclined to agree with them—sometimes, it’s a struggle, navigating a cloud of writer’s block but knowing that you need to flex the muscle, so you barrel through it. Other times, it lands in your lap, fully formed.

She goes to the choir room during lunch the next day, relieved when she finds that it’s empty. She’s been itching to try it out on a real piano. Taking a seat at the bench, she places her fingers on the pristine white keys and begins to play.

“Try my best but what can I say,” she sings quietly, letting her eyes close as she tests out the notes. “All I have is myself at the end of the day, and all I want is for that to be okay.”

“What’s that?”

She spins around to see Ricky, watching her from the doorway, his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“Just . . . some song,” she tells him, closing the lid over the piano keys, but it’s too late.

He’s coming closer and takes a seat beside her on the bench. “Did you write that?”

She scrunches up her face, one eye shut as she teeters her head to the left then right, before admitting, “Yeah.”

“Do you write a lot of songs?” he asks.

She shrugs. “What is ‘a lot?’”

He smiles softly then lifts the lid once more to reveal the piano keys. “Would you play it again?”

She opens her mouth, wanting to say no, no way in the world, but Ricky looks back at her with his wide-eyed encouragement, and though she can’t explain why, she closes her mouth, turning away from him and towards the piano. She places her hands gently on the keys, poised to play. “It’s not done,” she warns. “Still a work in progress.”

_All I want is love that lasts_

_Is all I want too much to ask_

_Is it something wrong with me, oh_

_All I want is a good guy_

_Are my expectations far too high_

_Try my best but what can I say_

_All I have is myself at the end of the day_

_And all I want is for that to be okay_

Her voice trails off, along with the final notes, and she turns her head to look at the boy beside her. The entire time, it felt like his gaze had been burning into her and looking directly at him is even worse. “It’s beautiful,” he says, his mouth turning up at the corners in a small smile. Her stomach twists in knots. “I can’t wait to hear more.”

\---

Kourtney is the first one to comment on it.

They’re at The Salty Bean with Carlos, chemistry homework spread out on the table, and she’s biting on her bottom lip in concentration as she tries to determine if something is an ionic or covalent bond. She makes a note on her paper. “It’s definitely covalent,” she announces to her friends. “. . . I think.”

“Speaking of covalent bonding,” Kourtney says, setting her pencil down and leaning in.

“ _Subtle_ , Kourt,” Carlos mumbles into his latte, and confused, Nini looks back and forth between her two friends like a high stakes tennis match.

Kourtney continues, “You and Ricky seem pretty close these days.”

She blinks in surprise. “Me and—Ricky?”

“The one and only.”

“I think you mean we’re tolerating each other these days.” Which they are, wholeheartedly. They can trade jabs, but it’s all decidedly in good fun nowadays, and Ricky, turns out, has good taste in music, so they trade song recommendations too. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a welcome addition to the Glee Club or her life or really, anything in between, but he likes Glee Club, sharing his ideas and trying hard to master whatever choreography Carlos throws his way. it’s easy to become friends with the guy that he’s proving himself to be.

But it’s not like they’re making heart-eyes at one another during rehearsals or they’re spending all this time together outside of Glee Club or she’s swapping her chair for his lap like E.J. and Lauryn. Like, it’s not a romantic thing.

Kourtney raises a questioning eyebrow at her.

“It’s not like that,” Nini answers. She almost wants to laugh at the idea, in fact, so she does.

Carlos mutters under his breath, “Maybe it’s not like that for you, but that boy . . .”

Nini cuts him a look. Whose side is he on here?

Not that there are sides, per say, because that would mean this is a discussion or a debate or an argument when that’s simply not the case. The case is closed—no, the case was never even open in the first place.

“Think about it, Ni,” Kourtney says. “Cute boy who has always spent an obscene amount of time flirting and trying to get your attention has reformed his ways to be the soft, Glee Club-loving boy of your dreams.”

Okay, when she puts it that way, the whole thing sounds _very_ misleading. Ricky still hasn’t told everyone that his dad is dating Miss Jenn, and that’s what actually jumpstarted his Glee Club membership. So Nini won’t say anything either.

“It’s not like that,” she repeats, but this time, it sounds like a flimsy excuse even to her own ears.

\---

Each year, the Glee Club sells singing Valentine’s, one love song of your choosing from a list of classic and modern selections. It mostly ends up being a day of girls’ paying for E.J. to sing “Beautiful Soul” to their female friends, but it’s fun to perform around the school in a rare show of appreciation from their peers.

And she knows that it’s popular to hate on Valentine’s Day when you’re single, but she likes to wear her pink sweater dotted with tiny hearts and bake red velvet brownies for her friends, so they all have something sweet to share.

For her selection, she picks out “Lovebug,” her favorite old Jonas Brothers’ song from when she was a kid, and she gets to perform it for Maisie Roberson after third period. Ricky plays guitar for accompaniment, and Ashlyn makes the kazoo and shaker noises for her.

Ricky sings and plays Harry Styles’s “Adore You” as a solo, while the rest of the group backs him up with some oohing and aahing, and even Nini has to admit that it’s unfairly swoonworthy.

\---

They hang back in the choir room one afternoon once everyone else has filed out, because Ricky wants to run through “Somewhere Only We Know” a few more times and she offers to play for him while he does so.

She sits at the piano while he stands on the opposite end, looking right at her as he sings, “And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?”

After the last notes ring out, he lets out a shaky breath and walks around the piano to sit on the bench next to her, their legs pressed against one another as he does so, and he looks at the sheet music she’s been referencing. “I keep missing the high note on the bridge,” he mutters.

Nini snorts, and he shoots her a look. “What?”

She turns to look at him and the space between their bodies is negligible. She can’t remember the last time she was this close to someone, lined up from shoulders to knees. “You sound great,” she says, and she means it.

She can hear him exhale loudly again, but he doesn’t answer, instead seeming to settle for just looking at her again. The two aren’t alone together often, typically surrounded by the commotion that accompanies the Glee Club, so when they are, she finds that they settle into a comfortable silence that she doesn’t share with many others.

A moment passes and then she catches his gaze shift downwards to her lips for a fraction of a second before flicking back up to her eyes. Then back down. And she’s never told Kourtney or anyone this, not after her friend swore up and down that Ricky had a thing for her, but it’s not the first time that she’s seen Ricky do this and the scary, exhilarating, overwhelming implication of what that means.

Ricky shifts an inch closer, and she doesn’t move, she can’t, and it feels like molten lava is creeping through her veins, through her chest, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.

It feels like everything has become infinitely slow, to the point where even the molecules of the choir room can’t possibly be moving, and she hears and feels Ricky exhale once more, and she briefly thinks that if he wants to kiss her, she’ll let him.

Except it’s Ricky. _Ricky Bowen_. She can’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t. They are teammates and friends and she couldn’t possibly feel that way about him.

With her hand still on the keys of the piano, she shifts purposefully, pressing until the instrument elicit an unpleasant chord, and he jumps at the sound, jerking away from her. His eyes are wide in surprise.

Hoping that she’s able to maintain a neutral expression, she stands, gathering up the sheet music and wishing away whatever just happened—or almost happened—that hangs over them. “Seriously, you have nothing to worry about with your solo.”

And he doesn’t. A week later, they take first at Regionals.

\---

There’s not a break this time before everyone starts freaking out about Nationals. The _Shine!_ Nationals are in New York this year, and it’s a rush of logistical planning from booking flights and hotels to beginning to tackle their set. The group has consistently raised its caliber all year, and Nationals cannot be any different, not if they want any chance of winning.

They still haven’t picked out their songs when he catches her on her way out after their third practice back and pulls her a few feet down the hallway, out of earshot for any of the other Glee Club members as they exit the choir room.

“I had an idea for Nationals,” he says excitedly, gripping onto both straps of his backpack. She raises an eyebrow, waiting. “What if you wrote an original song for us to perform?”

She stares at him, attempting to gauge if he’s being serious, but he maintains his smile, the kind that’s so wide that his dimples appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

A stone of dread settles in the pit of her stomach at the thought: showing the entire Glee Club one of the songs that she’s conjured up from the deep recesses of her mind, much less an audience of other Glee Clubs from around the country and of strangers, opening herself up to be judged for a piece of music so deeply personal. She shouldn’t have even shown one of her songs to Ricky. She’s not sure why she did in the first place. “No, I can’t.”

His head tilts like a confused puppy. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“My songs aren’t for the Glee Club,” she answers. “They’re for me.”

His expression softens. “Nini, that song that you showed me is so good. Don’t you want everyone to know how talented you are?” She shakes her head and turns to leave, but he stops her, catching her by the wrist. “What are you so scared of?” His tone isn’t harsh, but it is pointed.

“I’m not scared.” She’s terrified.

He lets out a laugh, looking away as he shakes his head, before looking back to her to ask, “Really?” He still holds onto her hand and she’s forgotten about it, too, until she feels his grip tighten.

Swallowing thickly, she knows that his question is veering away from her song and to the moment when he almost certainly kissed her in the choir room. They hadn’t broached the subject since she left the room that day, and she was hoping that she’d never have to. She still hasn’t fully processed what it meant that she’d, just for a moment, wanted to kiss him too.

“Look,” she says, and she pulls her wrist from his grasp. “I don’t want us to perform one of my songs, and I’m not asking for your opinion on this. So, drop it.”

Before he can retort, she turns and tries to ignore the feeling of anxiousness that prickles through her as she walks out of East High.

\---

They don’t talk for a week after that.

And for what used to be the sweet relief of not having to deal with Ricky Bowen for a full seven days, now feels like deafening, suffocating silence.

\---

“Are you and Ricky in a fight or something?” Ashlyn asks her. She’s at the Caswells' house to study for a history exam the next day, seated together at the kitchen table.

“That can’t possibly be on a flashcard,” Nini responds, reaching out for the index card in her friend’s hand.

Ashlyn laughs at her and holds her stack of flashcards out of reach. “I’m being serious, Nini. You guys won’t even talk to each other in practice anymore, and Ricky looks at you with big ol’ sad eyes.” She gives Ashlyn a look, but the redhead returns it. “We thought you two were finally getting along.”

They’re still not speaking, which isn’t as difficult as she thought it might be as they’ve spent their most recent rehearsals choreographing one of their group numbers, “Sucker,” and E.J., Seb, and Ricky are all splitting solo verses on it, placed at the front of their formation.

She flips through her notebook as though she’s looking for a particular answer, but her own handwriting appears blurry through her unfocused eyes.

“We’re fine,” she insists, but Ashlyn’s face is covered in disbelief. She makes herself smile. “Still one big happy Glee family, I promise.”

\---

She tries to picture herself on stage, bright lights in her eyes, singing her own words for everyone to hear. If she had her voice magnified to that extent, what would she want to say and who would she want to showcase herself to be?

She still remembers a dream that she had when she was six years old when she still could only play certain songs on the piano because her hands were too small to reach some chords and before she knew any other instruments or had written her first song. She was alone on a stage in a beautiful, sparkly dress, and while she couldn’t see the audience, she could feel the energy of a packed theater, all eyes on her, gathered specifically to hear her sing. At the end, the applause was thunderous, and even in her dream, she felt so alive.

She sets aside her math homework and pulls her keyboard and notebook into her lap.

Days later, she loiters in the choir room after practice, waiting until everyone else has filed out before approaching their advisor.

“Miss Jenn?” she asks. The woman pauses organizing her papers, filled with notes and formations and marked up sheet music. “I had an idea for Nationals since we still need to pick one more song.” Her hands shake a little as she unzips her backpack and pulls out her notebook. “Can I play it for you?”

\---

Big Red gives her the Bowens' address, and she’s grateful that the boy doesn’t ask why. When she knocks, his dad answers, but she can see the top of Ricky’s head from where he sits on the couch, and when he sees her, he settles her with a cold expression.

They end up sitting on the front porch, a safe four inches between them, and he studies her with caution, waiting for her to speak.

“I showed Miss Jenn one of my songs,” she starts. Ricky’s eyebrows shoot up. “I know,” she continues with a smile. “She loved it and wants us to sing it at Nationals.”

She’ll never forget how her teacher’s eyes lit up when she played her newest song for her. An original song, Miss Jenn had said, will give them _such_ an edge, and the piece will provide an emotional touchstone to their set that the other two songs don’t currently provide.

“Wow,” he says, but the smile he gives her doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” she answers, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. She needs to keep going. “I wanted to tell you that you were right. I was scared. I _am_ scared.” He keeps staring at her, unmoving, but the look in his eyes is kinder than it was when she arrived at his door. “Of a lot of things. But I’m trying,” she finishes, echoing the same words that he’d given her months prior. She hopes that he understands.

He smiles, genuine this time, and says back, “I know.”

\---

The night before Nationals, he knocks on her door just after midnight.

Kourtney, her roommate on the trip, grumbles at the sound, turning over to shove her face deeper into her pillow. “Nini, it’s for you,” she calls out, muffled.

“You can’t possibly know that,” Nini replies, but she’s up anyway, opening the door to reveal Ricky, who _is_ actually there to see her. He’s in a Utah Jazz sweatshirt and mismatched plaid pajama pants, and his hair sticks up in the back, from what she suspects is caused by his pillow.

She makes sure that she has her room key before closing the door behind her, and they sit on the floor of the hallway, backs against the wall, both drawing their knees to their chests.

“I’m freaking out,” he admits, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie.

“ _You’re_ freaking out?” she asks. “I’m going to be singing my first competition solo _ever_ tomorrow.” Miss Jenn said it was only right that she sang her own song at Nationals, noting that it will provide a deeper emotional punch given that they _were_ her words and all. And even though Nini thought she’d been waiting the last three years for this moment, she’s been completely freaking out since. “What if I trip? Or my voice cracks? Or I forget the words?”

Ricky laughs, but she doesn’t think this is particularly funny. “They’re _your_ words. I’ve never heard your voice crack once, and if you trip, well. I’ll be right there to catch you.”

Right, that was the other thing—Miss Jenn hadn’t been lying when she said that she wanted to revisit Ricky and Nini as a duet pairing. They were singing her song together tomorrow.

“This is where you say that you’ll catch me, too,” he chimes in, breaking through her thoughts, and she laughs.

“I’ll do what I can,” she promises.

\---

Their set starts in a matter of minutes, and they gather in the wings, all whispering excitedly to one another. Nini stands a few feet behind the rest of her friends, smoothing her hands over the poofy skirt of her dress over and over. Before any _Shine!_ competition, she always needs a few quiet moments away from everyone to calm her nerves, and this time, her nerves are off the charts like they haven’t been since her first Sectionals.

She feels a hand find hers, and it’s Ricky beside her in his black dress shirt and gold bowtie, matching the trimming of the girls’ dresses. She hears the audience applause for the group ahead of them who have finished up their set, and without thinking, she interlaces their fingers. It’s an easy fit.

“I catch you, you catch me,” he says quietly, repeating their conversation from last night. She doesn’t answer him, squeezing his hand instead, and he smiles.

The other group rushes offstage, and the announcer’s voice crackles through the microphone when he says, “And next we have East High School from Salt Lake City, Utah!”

“Break a leg, Nini,” he says before slipping his hand out of hers, and they take the stage.

Her song, their duet, is the closer, following the two high energy group numbers, “Sucker” and “Truth Hurts,” and the numbers pass in a blur. She can barely recall the performance outside of how deeply ingrained the moves and harmonies and lyrics are in her body, and the energy that the audience gives back in spades, on their feet as they clap after each song until it’s time.

She takes her spot, alone at center stage, in the dark until a single spotlight focuses on her.

_I can't stay here_

_I am not the girl who runs and hides_

_Afraid of what could be_

_And I will go there_

_I need time_

_But know that things are always closer than they seem_

_Now I'll do more than dream_

Ricky joins in, and while he remains behind her, stepping out from the group formation, his voice alongside hers is more comforting than she would imagine.

_I'm gonna fly_

_Gonna crash right through the sky_

They cross the stage, facing one another, and on the chorus, begin towards each other, and as she sings, “Gonna touch the sun,” she points up, and he mimics the motion, echoing her words. “Show everyone,” she sings, and they meet in the middle, closing the space between them. He takes her raised hand in his, intertwining their fingers just like before as he repeats the line.

The pair turns back towards the audience, hands still clasped, as they sing together.

_That it's all or nothing_

_All or nothing_

\---

It doesn’t hit her all at once.

It’s woven into the songs that they sing and the movie nights with the Glee Club and the chocolate chip pancakes after each competition, and she’s not sure if it began the day he stepped foot in the Glee Club or when he puked on her shoes at Six Flags or when he played Britney Spears on his guitar or she cleaned cherry slushie out of his hair.

But she knows now, as he sings her own words, hand in hand, that she’s so far gone that she wouldn’t even know how to get herself out of it if she wanted to—but she thinks she doesn’t want to.

\---

They place second, and she cries into Kourtney’s shoulder because they’re second out of the entire country. It’s the best they’ve ever placed at Nationals, and she had a solo, with one of her songs—and all that combined feels like the sweetest victory.

She thinks she sees Miss Jenn crying, too, and the seniors mob each other, having closed out their final competition on the highest note, and E.J. cradles the trophy in his arms.

She passes out hugs to her friends, Carlos and Ashlyn and Natalie blurring together, and then she lifts her head, searching for him through the throng of people, until she seems him with Big Red, his hair fluffier from the humidity of the auditorium and from dancing and his bowtie is crooked.

And her next song goes like this: she disentangles herself from Gina and pushes through her friends and teammates, receiving pats on the back and someone—E.J., she’s pretty sure—ruffles her hair as she keeps going. When she finally reaches Ricky, his smile widens on his face, all dimples and messy brown hair, and this is the kind of smile of his that she likes best. Before he opens his mouth to say something, a probably stupid or snarky something, she closes the space between them, placing her hands on his shoulders in an effort to keep herself steady, and lifts her mouth up to his.

Right on cue, he kisses her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer still, and she thinks it might be the best song she’s ever heard, harmonies swirling and swelling around them as they continue to kiss.

Their teammates must notice them, because she hears a fresh round of applause and Carlos whoops and hollers, “Get it, girl,” and Ricky smiles against her mouth and she’s smiling, too, and the song plays on.


End file.
